


I’m gonna win this time

by Notaburglar



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Competition, Funny, Games, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Other, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notaburglar/pseuds/Notaburglar
Summary: You had worked with Oikawa for some time, serving food at a local restaurant. He always came out on top with the most tips. Today, you were going to do whatever it takes to beat him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	I’m gonna win this time

**Author's Note:**

> My friend hates Oikawa so I wrote this for her.

You always hated how Oikawa would make off with more tips than you. Yes, he was good looking. Yes, he was charming. YES, he was the senior server at the chain restaurant you both worked at; but you were an attractive, smart, and amazing waitress! 

You made sure all orders were correct before bringing them out, you had no need for a pen and pad, and you always greeted everyone with a big, pearly smile, even if they were assholes. But somehow, Oikawa managed to come out on top every night. 

It was a nightly ritual for the servers. After the doors closed and the customers were gone, you’d all sit at the large round table in the middle of the restaurant and count tips. It was a game- who made the most that night? You always came in second. He’d beat you by a landslide. How?!?! You were one of three girls working there, and most nights, you were the only girl. Seiko was the only other female server. She floated between serving and cooking and tonight, she was on cooking duty.

Kiyoko was the hostess, seating patrons and making the rotation fair. She knew of the game all of the servers played, and never picked favorites. But you had to wonder why when large groups crowded the lobby, Oikawa always managed to wrangle them into his section.

Yachi was a nervous wreck around people, but she was efficient and detailed. She did most paperwork and scheduling and helped in the dish pit when it was needed, but begged for staff not to come to her with complaints about the schedule. She’d panic and direct them to the assistant manager Ukai to solved them. She just couldn’t handle the stress. She tried serving one night when staffing was low… never again. It was a complete fuck show. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” she may as well have changed her name tag to I’m sorry instead of Yachi.

Tonight was no different than any other Saturday night. Being so close to the university filled your pockets quite well on weekends. The only difference about tonight was that you were going to beat Oikawa and get the most tips, you could feel it. 

You had the largest section and it was packed full. The head chef on staff, Kuroo, had the hots for you. The bussers were sweet and kept a close eye on all sections, but the flash of a few extra dollars made their eyes pass by yours a bit more often. The stars were aligning for your triumphant victory over that cocky bastard Oikawa. It helped that the new guy had the small section next to Oikawa, and since he was the senior server, he was training.

The new guy was good. This was his first night alone and he seemed to be keeping up. Kyoko made sure to send what she thought would be easy orders his way so he wasn’t overwhelmed. He was a bit stoic though. He didn’t smile much and was pretty straight forward, but the customers seemed to like him and left a few bucks under the centerpiece. 

You watched him fumble around a bit, Oikawa having to take a moment to correct him, ignoring his customers waving hand and impatient expression. It was gold. Tonight was the night! You could feel it deep inside of you. And the look Kyoko gave you from the podium up front made you that much more confident you’d destroy that cocky bastard tonight. 

The group entering was loud, as most of them were. With a good bar on site and being so close to the dorms and fraternities, you saw quite a few young, drunk men come stumbling in, unable to properly control the volume of their voice. But drunk men meant lowered inhibitions; which meant great tips for the only girl on staff. 

“Place us with your hottest server!” 

His letterman’s jacket told Kyoko he hadn’t accepted he was no longer a high school football star. “Our hottest server is Oikawa.” 

She glanced over, Oikawa smiling and laughing with a table of two older women. He could charm the pants off of anyone. At times, he’d even be able to make straight men question their own sexuality. He really was good at his job, and it drove you up the wall.

The drunk college boy grumbled, “I meant your hottest chick server.” 

Kyoko hated these types and her eyes falling back to you, silently asking if you were up for the task showed her clear irritation in them already. You nodded. It was your turn to fill another table, and your pockets were lighter than they should be for how late in the night it was. There was one other table you needed to tend to before them, and you knew you’d need to prepare for all of the remarks about how cute you were and if they could get your number. Even Terushima wasn’t as bad as drunk college guys, and he was relentless. 

Luckily, Kyoko was on the receiving end of most of his advancements. And lucky for her, her boyfriend Tanaka put a stop to them as they happened. As the bus boy, he was able to keep an eye on everything that happened throughout the restaurant, even eyes on his precious girlfriend.

You turned your back for one second- ONE SECOND- and Oikawa was already trying to steal your loot right from under you. With a charming smile and his sports knowledge, he lured the large group of drunk men over to his section like a fisher man with a weak catch. But you had something he didn’t: boobs. 

With a quick adjustment to your top, you caught the attention of the leader of this pack of hungry wolves and beckoned him back over to the dark side. Nearly floating across the floor, he was led astray from Oikawa's clutches and landed dead center of your target.

“I thought you said you wanted the prettiest server?” A pout on your lips in a playful fashion, “am I not pretty?”

It was sleazy and way below your moral code. But Oikawa would be defeated tonight. You would reign supreme and scream your battle cry upon victory. You would have his head!

“Your the only server worthy of taking our order hot stuff.”

Hot stuff? Was that even a compliment anymore? The demeaning qualities of these delusional pledglings… ugh. You were gonna be in for a long night with this crowd.

You forced the corners of you mouth to curl. You probably looked more like the joker than a woman thrilled to be waiting on such classy lads, but you didn’t really care much. Your mind was wandering over to Oikawa's section where an eruption of laughter caught you off guard. Those women were eating up everything he said, even running their old, wrinkled fingers along his hand with flirtatious eyes. 

You couldn’t let that wet paper towel beat you! 

“I’ll be back in a bit to get your drinks ordered.” You turned and fled back to the kitchen.

Normally, such low ball tactics weren’t your thing. You preferred to get the job done the honest way. But today… today you’d play dirty.

“Kuroo!” His head darted up at your angelic voice, “I need you.” Words that stopped his heart and made him ascend to the heavens.

“Kuroo!”

He shook himself. Was he daydreaming again?

“What’s up sugar puff?” His nicknames always made you blush, and this time was no different.

After composing yourself, “I’m gonna beat Oikawa tonight.” You clenched your fists and stomped in excitement.

Without thinking, he grabbed the closest item, a broken broom handle, and smiled a wicked smile, “I’ll help.” 

Did anyone like Oikawa?

You tried to hide the snicker that forced it's way up your throat, “no no…” his enthusiasm was endearing, but a bit too much. “I mean, I’m gonna get more tips. And you are a master schemer.” 

That look. The look on your face made the butterflies in his stomach flutter uncontrollably. He could barely hold himself back from what his desires egged him to do. 

“Ok…” he tossed the broom handle and went to work.

“Oh!” His hands grabbed at your shirt, “Kuroo! What the fuck?!?”

****

Oikawa's head turned to the commotion in the dish room. His usual smile faded for a split second, he recognized that voice. There was no doubt that you were up to something, he’d have to pull out the big guns tonight. 

He was well aware of your desire to beat him. He never worried too much. He had each customer that sat at his tables wrapped around his finger the second he waltzed up to their seats and spoke. You’d made it abundantly clear that one day you’d make more in tips than him. He figured the sound was just you attempting some low ball move. He wasn’t wrong. He scoffed it off as some inferiority complex and walked off with a smile, his next order was up anyway.

He got to the window to see Bokuto sliding his plates to him, “order up.” His big goofy smile made the bile in Oikawa's stomach rumble upwards.

Bokuto was fun and always the life of the restaurant. Alongside Kuroo, the two were a great team. Kuroo cooking and Bokuto prepping, the food was flawless each and every time. But when Kuroo was on break, and Seiko was nowhere to be seen, Bokuto ran the kitchen, that’s when the chaos ensued.

He was a walking disaster. The only reason he wasn’t constantly in the hospital, or the building was still standing and not a pile of smoldering ash, was because of Kuroo. With a watchful eye, he guided the reckless prep cook into success. But the man burnt water if left unattended. 

Oikawa grimaced, “Did you cook this?” Most of what Bokuto dished out was garbage.

“Yup. Specially made, just for your customers.” 

Oikawa reluctantly grabbed the dishes and took in a big breath. He repeated over and over to himself, please don’t suck, please don’t suck as he placed the plates in front of each person. 

“Enjoy your meal…” he couldn’t even say it with confidence. Bokuto's cooking was like feeding toxic waste to lab rats.

He scurried off, scared of the reactions. He couldn't bear facing them if that owl looking disaster had messed it up. 

As he made it to the bar, his eyes caught you leaving the back. Something was different about you this time- something… sexy?

He couldn’t place it. Your hair was the same. Your posture was a bit better than before. Your smile bigger. But given your current table and the patrons staring happily at you, why wouldn’t you smile. Drunk college kids in this town tipped great! Their mommies and daddies paid for everything, and none of them had any concept of what’s too much money. He stared in question, wonder just what the hell happened to make him unable to remove his sight from you. He’d always been attracted to you. This was proven by his countless attempts to ask you out on dates only to be denied with a harsh no.

When he got closer, eavesdropping on your conversation, he saw it. It was your shirt. 

You hadn’t changed it. You hadn’t adjusted it, only unbuttoning the top button to show more cleavage, something Seiko did all of the time. But that wasn’t it. It was what lay under either that thin fabric.

Your nipples were protruding out like you had been in the arctic tundra with no protection from the harsh elements. They stood attention and were thrust out slightly by the change in posture. 

“Oh really?” He hummed to himself waiting on the drink order, “two can play that game.” His eyes falling to the older women he had been shamelessly flirting with all night.

****

Back and forth and back and forth, both of you attempting to outdo the other. The other waitstaff felt their restaurant was turning into a glorified strip club with the amount of skin showing and bulges resting on the edges of tables. 

“Kagayama, Tanaka, Noya.” You curled your finger to draw them close. “I’ll show you my bra strap if you guys spend more time on my tables than Oikawas.” 

Like golden retrievers, the three enthusiastically nodded their heads. Kagayama would have done it either way, you knew this. He hated the guy. He had watched him for so long, hoping to one day be taken under his wing and shown how to serve and get the best tips. But Oikawa ignored his request and moved along like the self centered, clogged salt shaker he was.

You took your break, albeit reluctantly, and counted your cash in the back room. Based on the large bulge of money in Oikawa's pocket, you had to have been almost one hundred dollars behind him. How?!?! You had done it all: showing more skin, Kuroo took off your bra and shoved your chest against the freezer door, you flirted and bent over farther to show off the goods. You played nice with the kids and smiled when they broke the glasses. How was he ahead of you?

You passed Oikawa as you came back. He was waiting in the back for a salad. His toe tapped furiously on the ground. Kagayama had been on salad duty for a few weeks and it was working out just fine. The customers loved how beautifully arranged they all were. The lettuce laying perfectly, the toppings strategically placed to allow the color to pop. The dressing- not too much or too little. If only the kid didn't take forever to put it together. When people ordered salads, all of the servers grumbled internally while maintaining a pure smile. It was a task and a half to get it out to them in a timely manner. Kagayama, the perfectionist, would not allow any of his masterpieces to leave without his stamp of approval, even if it meant they would waist for it. And since the person waiting to deliver was Oikawa, he gladly took his time.

When you returned to the floor, your section was bustling. You noted the new guy had helped keep your customers happy while you were gone.

“Thanks.” He was cuter up close. 

This was the first time you had really been near him. He normally worked the morning shift to train. But now that you saw him up close, it was a surprise how good looking he was.

He didn’t speak, he only nodded and went back to his tables. He sure was a strange guy though. You hadn’t seen him smile, but his customers always seemed to be happy. 

Kuroo summoned you to the window, “Bokuto is cooking all of Oikawa's meals tonight.” That devious smile, “the idiot has to learn somehow.” 

Although this was good news, you also knew Bokuto had been improving over the course of the past few months. He had been cooking at home to practice and used you as a test subject for his concoctions. His food was nowhere near as gastronomically astronomical as Kuroos, but he was good enough to pass off as a cook now.

“Thanks.” You grabbed the plate and left.

When you saw Oikawa sneak off to the back, you made your move, quickly dropping off the plate and heading to his section to scan the people. 

One table seemed happy, but Bokuto's food showed they were already not thrilled- no need to interfere there. Another table had already placed the tip and were getting up to leave. You weren’t above backhanded tactics to get better tips, but stealing tips from anyone was not your style. The older women… yes! The older women would be perfect. He had been working on them all night.

You weaved through the people and tables. Your eyes glued to your target like a heat seeking missile. “Good evening ladies.” Your smile brought comfort to them, “your server, Oikawa, will be right back. He just has to put some cream on his rash.” You bowed slightly, “is there anything I can get you while you wait for him to put some cream on his large, itchy rash?”

The collective looks spreading across each face was priceless. This young, handsome boy that had been charming them all night long was doing what?

“No thank you dear.” Her sweet voice was a bit shaky. You wondered if it was from age, or from the information they had just gained.

As you left, you saw them getting up and leaving. A quick peek to the table made your cheeks burn in excitement. Only a few measly dollars tossed to the table. 

The games got dirtier and dirtier as the night went on: Oikawa spilling spaghetti on your white shirt. You bumped into him “accidentally” a few times forcing him to spill drinks and drop plates. He made comments about your girlfriend and how jealous she was that you flirted with guys at work, and you told a clearly straight man that Oikawa thought he was cute and handed him Oikawa's actual phone number.

You passed by him as he swooned some young college girls and dropped off their food. “Oikawa..” you said in a yell like whisper, “I saw you didn’t wash your hands. Go.” You pointed to the restrooms in the back and raised your brows. 

The girls quickly looked down at the plates he had just had his hands all over. “Ladies, it’s just a gag. Our servers are so playful.” He growled his last word as his eyes seeded holes into your sauntering figure heading back to the other side of the restaurant. 

An order up for tour section brought you back to the counter of food waiting. 

You grabbed your next order and placed it in front of your customer, “anything else?” 

Her face contorted as she looked down like you had placed the severed head of her mother in front of her. Once you noticed, you gasped in shock and retrieved it as quickly as possible. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

A rush order was placed. “Oh! An issue with the food? Kuroo is normally so good.” Oikawa snagged his order, the same order as yours and walked away. The bastard stole your food, switching the plates.

“That son of a bitch.” A snarled rumbled from the pit inside you and coiled around your larynx. 

****

The end of the night had finally come. The last customer leaving with a full stomach and a smile. All of the tables were bussed, cleaned, and reset for the next day. 

The cooks cleaned the grill, and the bussers did the dishes. You were assigned to vacuum the floor and the new guy, Iwaizumi mopped the hard surface. The bartenders, Tsukishima and Lev stacked clean glasses and counted his tips. No one bothered comparing their tips to them. They beat the wait staff every night- no exceptions. 

Now was the moment of truth. You all gathered at the large round table as normal. All servers present. Akaashi, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Atsumu, Matsukawa, Suga, Semi, and you. 

Your nerves trembled leaving your hands weak and your brain a bit cloudy. That night was busy and you weren’t so lucky as to have the more cute servers over the down right handsome ones working with you. In all honesty, you’d rather have had Tadashi, Hinata, and Kenma as the other wait staff. They were tipped well, but weren’t the type to flirt or charm. Kenma was the worst, and somehow barely trailed behind you in tips almost every time you worked together. 

You saw his stack of cash and that stupid grin pointed right at you. He was such a cocky asshole and all you wanted was to hold his head under water until the bubbles stopped coming up. But instead, you aggressively counted your money. 

Once finished, Daichi instructed everyone to write down how much, just like every other night. Of course, anyone could choose not to disclose the number, but the competitive nature and relationship you all shared, it came as no surprise that everyone was eager to win. 

The assistant manager, Ukai, although he wouldn’t encourage this type of behavior, totally encouraged this type of behavior. Even the cooks were involved, anxiously waiting to hear who came out on top. 

“Alright alright! Everyone be quiet!” 

No one was talking. Just light banter while they waited. Their assistant manager was a weird guy, but he was fun and didn’t mind the games they played while on the clock.

Matsukawa started, “two hundred and fifty three dollars.” He smiled. This was a huge number for him.

Atsumu huffed and rolled his eyes. If Osamu has been working that night, the two of them easily would have beat everyone. “Two hundred and seventy eight.” He smirked.

If there was one person everyone hated just as much as Oikawa, it was Atsumu. He was just as cocky and just as much of an asshole. He made your teeth grind when he spoke. 

Everyone else outed their numbers: Daichi, Akaashi, Suga. It was a shock that Akaashi didn’t get more. He was so pretty and sweet. Normally women would walk in and practically throw their wallets at him. You guessed tonight was just an off night. 

It was time. Oikawas stupid smirk made you shake with rage.

“Three hundred and forty five dollars.” He slammed a pile of cash in front of him to show his earnings. 

Instantly you rose to your feet and celebrated. “I did it! I finally beat that deflated volleyball! ” You screamed in celebration, “four hundred and two, you moldy cantaloupe!.” 

You cheered. Kuroo coming out from the kitchen to join. The two of you danced to your own little tune, if you could even call what you we’re doing dancing. It looked more like what Beavis and Butthead did when they danced than any actual dance moves. 

You turned to him to high five when his lips pressed to yours, “good job.” You blushed. 

A clearing throat drew your eyes from Kuroos to the table, “four hundred and twenty two.” 

“Huh?” A collective hum of confusion.

“I made four hundred and-“ 

“We get that!” Oikawa kicked his chair out, “but how? That table of old ladies wouldn’t leave all night.”

Iwaizumi sighed, “Those women are the wives of some crazy rich business men. Their husbands have been out on a business meeting on the other side of the globe for a few days now, so they came here to get out of the house.” He explained. 

He rolled his eyes, “They commented on my arms and left me a tip of four hundred dollars. I didn’t even do anything other than wait on their table.” 

When he mentioned his arms, and lifted them to show, you understood exactly why those women tipped him so well. The drool practically fell from your mouth seeing the tight muscles twitch as he moved. 

“There you have it.” Ukai said getting up, “now go home and relax. And no bullshit tomorrow.” He glared both you and Oikawa down. He put out too many fires that night for his liking.

You glared at Oikawa from Kuroos strong arms, “I still beat you, you overgrown weed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism encouraged


End file.
